Com Tech Specialization Course
by The Vast Empire
Summary: Ron is young fresh and new at the Vast Empire. He had enlisted to serve the StormTrooper Corps and have finally decided on which direction he wants to specialize as a Stormtrooper. What better than to be a hacker?
1. My First Test

My First Test

_"Alright... now... starting from the main interface, one can access several basic control screens, including"_ Ron lay on his back in the top bunk, studying, or appearing to be studying to his roommate below. _"... visual options, the settings and volume interface, language options, and... and..."_

Ron's eyes snapped open, and looked carefully around himself. Focusing on a small textbook at the foot of his bed, he slowly moved one of his bare feet over to grab it.

"And?" came his friend's voice below him.

Ron's toes continued in their attempt to grasp the book, while he continued babbling on.

_"And... other user options such as, but not including... ah, that is to say... what I mean is..."_

His toes finally grabbed the book, and with a swift upwards jerk of his foot, sent it flying into his hands. He flipped to the page he had looked at so many times before and said with relief,

_"Manufacture description, notes on the datapad production, and..."_

"Dammit Ron, I said no textbook this time!" Groaned his roommate below. His roommate, Malcus, swung his legs out of the bed and slowly walked over to the small refrigerator he owned. Pulling out a beer, he shook his head and said,

"How do you expect to pass the test if you can't even remember what the basic screens are?"

_"I know them; I just don't have it memorized... I mean, it's different when I actually have the datapad in front of me... it just all comes to me then."_

"Yeah well, tell that to your score sheet." Malcus replied.

He looked outside the small window of the large barracks that they were housing in. Outside dozens of troopers were all heading to their next class. A buzzer rang, faint but still audible, which caused Ron to jump out of bed. He pulled on a shirt and grabbed his testing materials before heading towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to Malcus.

_"What do you think Mal?" _he said. _"Am I ready?"_

"As ready as you'll ever be." Malcus sighed. "Maybe you'll be lucky and the professor will give you an oral exam. You're one of the best Com Techies I've ever seen strait out of basic. I mean... You're the only guy I know who can get as many beers as he wants out of the machine outside using trap-doors (1). All the other guys just get busted. You got something man."

_"Well thanks Malcus."_ said Ron.

"But you're dumb as hell." said Malcus. "Once you do get a trap-door to work on the machine, you tell everyone how you did it and why you did it and then _you_ end up getting busted by some guy you told. You'll get punished, restricted, and yelled at until you promise not to do it again, whereas you are released; and you program another trap-door, and you tell everyone, and you get caught. You learn from your mistakes, but you never care for the consenquences... you just care about trying to get away with it again."

Ron shrugged and said, _"Well this one I made..."_

Malcus groaned and waved him off. "Just go, kid. Good luck."

_"Alright then."_ replied Ron rather sheepishly.

***

Ron exited the barracks and joined the crowd of young troopers like himself headed towards the class rooms. He looked at a few faces, some panicked, some uncaring, and some that were buried deep into a book. That reminded Ron to pull out his own book. Every minute of studying gives five minutes of confident testing... or at least that's what Malcus told him.

Ron continued reading and walking until he finally came to his room. Its door was the same as all the others, a seven foot tall door which was fixed in a cramped hallway. Ron forced himself through the other students, and with a swift pull of the door knob, entered the room.

Upon entering he was blinded by the light that rushed into his eyes. The room was massive, with a clear dome over head, and a cascading floor filled with rows of student pews that lead all the way down to the center, amphitheater style. At the bottom was the instructor, an old vet by the name of SSgt. Shracken. Of course, Ron did not see any of this until his eyes grew adjusted to the light... but that was not before he was noticed by Shracken.

"Mr. Goron I presume." came the harsh, whispering voice of Shracken. Ron was surprised that such an unaudible voice could be projected so loudly, until he recalled that nearly all the instructors were equipped with personal microphones.

_"I ah, yes sir. But the name is Ron-Goron... no last name sir."_

"Your seat, Mr. Goron." replied Shracken. Ron followed the trace of his pointer, which indentified his seat, in the very front. Ron walked down the rows until he got to his seat, whereas he submitted himself to the class.

"So that I can watch you." sneered Shracken. Ron groaned. His reputation as the Beer machine slicer didn't help him here.

Shracken then turned to the rest of the assembly and said, "Now where were we? Ahh yes... the test procedure." he chucked and sat down in his swiveled chair, before continuing. "Your test is simple. In order to pass, you must demonstrate that you not only know these instruments inside and out... but you must program them to perform a specific task. The former is easily done by any student... but the latter... well, that part is more difficult. If you paid attention..." here he glared at several individuals, "then it is an easy feat."

Some student's sighed, other's panicked. The style of testing today was not written, but instead it was a live test. Some preferred that style, others dreaded it. Ron didn't know what to think. He knew he was capable of it... but it all depended on what he had to install to pass the test.

Shracken pointed to a table covered with used datapads. "All of you are assigned a datapad. You must plug in your datapad into the main interface, which will connect you to the projector, and to my own datapad. When your turn comes, I will select your datapad, and your screen will be projected onto the wall for the observation of the entire room. You will have two minutes to answer my questions, and as long as you need to program your datapad... until you make a mistake. If at any time you make a mistake during the second trial... you will fail the test... and you must return on another date to retake it."

The students lined up and received their datapads. As soon as they all logged in, Shracken began.

"Aardos!" he scowled. "You are the first to be tested." Shracken leaned back and opened a large textbook.

"Datapads are complex devices which can be connected to nearly any form of cyber instrument. They are the essential piece of equipment for any Communications Technician." Here he paused. "Which is why this is what the test will be on."

Shracken closed the textbook with one hand and chucked it behind him. Ignoring the collision that followed his action, he said,

"Define what the "Basic Script" is used for."

Aardos answered this, and all the other questions in the time period, whereas Shracken said,

"Good, good. Now show me how to write your own "Basic Script" command."

Aardos looked at Shracken quizzically before saying, "That's... that's a higher level ability... I won't be able to do that for weeks."

"If you paid attention," sneered Shracken. "I showed you how to write your own, very simple basic script command."

"I... I can't do it." said Aardos.

"Then you've failed." said Shracken. "Bak-Forgona, you're next!"

This proceeded with the entire class. All the students were dumbstruck. Yes... technically since it was the last chapter in the assigned text-book, it was legally testable... but no instructor ever did so... it was cruel to ask first level students to have such knowledge. Even Ron was unsure that he could comply. He knew how to manipulate different scripts... but to create his own... that was both tedious and unnecessary, because the only basic codes that were needed were already made.

Soon the professor worked his way to the "G" section of the class. The trooper before him just failed, and Shracken then called out,

"Goron!"

Ron answered all the questions... although he was hesitant on some of them. Shracken was at least satisfied thus far. But when Shracken told him to begin programming, the system blanked out.

"Dammit." Shracken said. "I told them to fix our damn connection." he turned to the computer panel in the back of the room. "One minute." he called out to the remainder of the class.

Two hours later nearly everyone had left. The only people in the room were either those members of the class who had fallen asleep, or those members of the class who were patient enough to stay. Ron was among those patient enough to stay. But while he waited, he pulled out his textbook and found the chapter which instructed him on how to write his own basic script command. After successfully doing this, he exited his pew row and walked up to Shracken in the back of the room.

By now Shracken was swearing and sweating profusely. Everywhere there were manuals and papers scattered. Ron patiently waited until Shracken stopped working temporarily before he said,

_"I've done it, sir."_

"Done what?" panted Shracken as he leafed through yet another manual.

_"I made my own command."_ replied Ron.

"And I'll bet you looked it up too didn't you?" said Shracken.

_"Well... yes sir... I did." _admitted Ron.

"I thought so." said Shracken. "They all do." He turned back to the computer panel and shook his head. "It's gotta work, the way to do it is so simple! Why can't I remember?"

Ron asked, _"Do what, sir?"_

"I've lost the link from the building's main computer... without access to the main computer, I have no power... no information... no test... nothing."

Ron looked at the computer, before saying, _"May I try sir?"_

Shracken replied. "If I can't do it, I can promise you that you can't Goron. Hacking the vending machines is one thing, reestablishing a connection is another."

_"Just a chance sir." _pleaded Ron.

"Fine, have a go. You're not going to do it." said Shracken.

Ron immediately set to work, and in ten minutes reported that he had re-established the link.

"What?" Shracken cried as he hastily shoved Ron aside to inspect the computer terminal. Sure enough, the link was back, and the power to the rest of the terminals in the class room were up and running.

"Ron... stay in the classroom... I'll be back." Shracken said.

Ron got a seat in the classroom and waited... again. It was simple enough, all he had to do was use a few bypass codes to get the the main terminal. The only reason why Shracken couldn't re-establish the connection was because he didn't know how to access the main terminal, which was protected by several passwords.

Shracken returned within the hour. He took a seat next to Ron and said,

"Mr. Goron." he started. "I just went to my own instructors... and they are rather alarmed that you knew how to bypass those security codes." He twitched a little, but continued. "And regardless of your passing the exam or not... they feel that your demonstration today was enough to pass you..."

Ron's eyes widened with this statement. That would mean that he would be the only one who had passed the test that day...

"You are very lucky, you know." Shracken said. "That the computer's connection failed. But you must also be wary that you must never attempt to do this thing again. The highest of authorities has been notified, and they are currently constructing a more secure system to protect our computer system in the future." Shracken sighed and got up from the seat.

"By the way..." Shracken said. "How did you come across those bypass codes?"

Ron grinned. _"Trap-dooring the vending machines is much more complex than you thought SSgt. Shracken."_


	2. My Teacher Test

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 1: Equipment and Procedures

Story 2: Communications Operations, Procedures, and Techniques

My Teacher Trap

"_Are you kidding me?"_ Ron thought to himself.

He was told that after the first exam, things wouldn't be as difficult... he had no idea. After passing his last exam, through unorthodox but acceptable means, Ron was now enrolled in the next of his required classes. It was taught by a young officer, fresh from the front; who upon showing certain dis qualities on the battlefield, was removed for his own (and his families) honor, to a lower teaching position. It was quite clear that for everything he lacked on the front line, he also lacked in the front desk. For as much as he wasn't a soldier, he certainly wasn't a teacher.

And it was in this very class room that Ron now sat, his eyeballs rolling up like slot machine windows, and his mouth hanging open just wide enough to dry out his tongue. This cause him to, every now and then, suddenly close his mouth and lick his lips to keep them from dehydrating... after which he would look up at the board to see if any new material had been gained, which never really happened. This continued for some weeks.

And it was one of these fine days that Ron now found himself; trapped in three hours forty-seven minutes of pure absolute boredom. It wasn't like he was missing anything either... for the instructor, named Aarnus Makko (or Mr. M to his students), taught strait out of the book, which was only as thick as their breakfast cookbooks which were distributed round the troops.

Ron stirred from his seat and looked at the rest of his class. Some of them were sleeping, some of them were reading (other books for other classes), and a select few up front were actually taking notes. He looked in his own book to review today's lesson, which was extremely easy and almost a disgrace to both teacher and student to teach and learn.

Basically the lesson entailed the operation of some thirty communication channels that were most commonly used in and out of battle. Access to these channels was extremely easy, with just a simple typed command, one came up to a sort of "table of contents" in which all the channels under a specific category were listed. These channels were under a server, the server was under a sever base, and so on and so forth. The most important part of the lesson was learning how to get into the server, which gave access to all its hosted channels.

That was it. Extremely easy, and not difficult to understand, as long as you didn't have an idiot as a teacher. He knew what to do, but he clearly had not an ounce of talent in relating that nformation to other people, which in turn jeopardized the lesson as a whole. Ron for one couldn't believe that he was teaching a two week course by himself, never mind the ridiculous idea of making such a simple concept into the two week course in the first place.

_"I wonder what Tibbs is doing." _pondered Ron, as he looked up across the room.

Tibbs, or Tabbulla Sawn, was one of the smarter students in the class. She was one of better friends of Ron too, although she was not as good as hacking systems as he was. She was more into creating her own gadgets and trinkets, which required a different skill. While some thought she could've been a combat engineer, she preferred to learn how to program her inventions instead of letting someone else.

In any case, Tibbs was sleeping, as usual in this class. Ron picked up his personal datapad and logged into the campus' chat-room, which was of course, protected from use in the class rooms. Ron entered the password (which he pinched off a teacher's assistant) and sent a message to Tibbs. Then setting down the datapad so as not to be noticed, he waited for a reaction from Tibbs.

Tibbs didn't notice the message at first, but she soon found the message invite from Ron. After typing in the password that Ron so graciously gave her some days before, she joined the private chat-room.

_"Hey Tibbs, want to collect a tip for the teacher?" _Ron said.

_"Sure."_ replied Tibbs. _"I know a lot of people who will donate for him: 'Mr. M, get a life.' 'Hey M... go back to the war, and this time get shot.' 'Makko the wakko'."_

Ron grinned. _"We have such generous hearts. But how can we refuse giving such a thoughtful gift? He deserves it for all the work he's done."_

_"Humph._ Tibbs said. _"If you can call it work."_

Ron wanted to laugh, but he held it in for the sake of not getting caught. He knew what the punishment for getting caught chatting was... but he just didn't want to go the next few hours as bored as the rest of the class.

_"Hey Ron."_ said Tibbs. _"I just had a fantastic idea." _She paused before saying, _"Let's get M to let out the class early."_

_"How?"_ Ron replied.

Tibbs said, _"Easy. We wait until he gives the class an exercise to work on, and then we invite him in the chat room. You and I can switch our names to the screen names of some of the people he hangs out with, you know, Paddy Vert or James Grimes, people like them. Then all we do is tell him that they are letting out their classes early due to last minute scheduling that didn't make it out to the teachers in time to make the FYI. It'll be easy, this guys a moron. And besides, we are technically participating in the class... the chat-room is a communications channel."_

_"Tibbs, you're a genius."_ Ron said.

After another ten minutes of pointless lecture, Makko finally gave some practical exercises for the students to do. Ron winked at Tibbs to engage in the master plan.

Makko took out his own datapad. It had been such a long day already, he hoped that Vert and Grimes were on. As he turned it on, he was instantly beset by an instant message.

[YOU HAVE AN INVITE TO ROOM #445656, WOULD YOU LIKE TO ACCEPT?]

Makko instantly accepted, and uploaded the private chat-room which included both Vert and Grimes.

A message appeared on the screen. [Vert: HEY MAK, WHATS NEW IN COMTECH?]

[Mak: HEY GUYS. NOT MUCH. IM REALLY HATING THIS CLASS, I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO GET THROUGH TO THESE KIDS, THEYRE SO DENSE, YOU KNOW?]

Ron rolled his eyes at this statement. Blame it on the kids why don't you. He responded as his alias GRIMES, who was an easy-going well liked instructor in the campus.

[Grimes: NO FEARS MAK, KIDS GET EASIER TO HANDLE AS YOU GET OLDER.]

[Mak: I SURE HOPE YOU'RE RIGHT MAN... WHAT TIME DO YOU GUYS START YOUR CLASSES TODAY?]

Tibbs' and Ron's eyes grew open with shock at this statement. Makko had just opened the door wide for them.

[Vert: CLASSES? MAK, MAN WE JUST LET OUT, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?]

[Mak: WHAT?]

[Grimes: YEAH MAK, HALF-DAY TODAY, WE LET OUT EARLY.]

[Mak: WHY? I DIDN'T GET ANY MESSAGE.]

[Vert: THEY ONLY TOLD THE OLDER GUYS, WE WERE SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU YOUNGER PEOPLE TO LET YOUR CLASSES OUT EARLY... SOMETHING ABOUT A FACULTY BREAK.]

Makko put down the datapad and looked up at the class. They were all still working on their practical, or at least most of them were. He leaned back and looked out the window... the campus was bare, hardly any students or teachers were on the grounds.

[Mak: WHY DON'T I SEE ANYONE OUTSIDE IN THE YARD?]

Damn. He wasn't as dumb as he looked. Now for the back-up plan.

[Grimes: EVERYONE ALREADY LEFT, MAN. WE TOLD YOU. NOW HURRY UP AND GET OUT OF THERE, THE GUYS ARE GOING OUT TO HUNT DOWN SOME HOT INTERNS AND UNLESS YOU WANT TO STICK AROUND IN A CLASS ALL DAY...]

[Mak: INTERNS? NEW?]

[Vert: YUP. YOU'D KNOW IF YOU GOT YOUR BUTT DOWN HERE.]

[Mak: AWESOME GUYS... WAIT UP, IM COMING!]

[EXIT: Mac (INTERNS!)]

Ron closed his datapad with a silent click. A job well done, and a lesson well learned. Tibbs and him would be drinking beers and puffing Lung-blaster's within the hour... or the next five minutes for that matter.


	3. My Rival: The Janitor

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 2: System Control

Story 1: Computer Operation

My Rival: The Janitor

Deep in the hallways of the Imperial Training Campus: down the long corridors leading to and from the mammoth cafeteria on the third floor of the Iverson Building; all of the students had left for class and were now ready for instruction. Well, nearly everyone.

_"Damn machine!"_ grumbled Ron. _"Hey! Is anyone still here? Anyone?"_

He grunted and groaned as he struggled to free his arm from the vender machine he had so laboriously manipulated previously. As it turned out, the Vender companies had learned that they had an opponent, one who preferred cheating to get his beer. Because of this, a new contraption had been inserted in all campus machines, a clinch which would prevent Ron from worming his arm up through the exit flap and up through to the drink racks where a simple tug would release as many beers as he could hold. As soon as Ron had trap-doored the device, he reached up through the machine to get the beers, but by the time he realized he could not pull his arm back out, it was too late.

_"What in hell is this? A trap? Vending machines don't fight, they serve! I... want... my... beer!"_ Yelled Ron as he violently yanked at his arm with each word. It was to no avail. There he was, the most miserable and the most irresponsible student in the Iverson Building.

_"Man."_ groaned Ron. _"This isn't good. I can't miss today, it's the final day of instruction, Sgnt Ross is going to kill me, absolutely kill me."_ Ron began hitting his head against the machine, repeating the motion until he grew something of a headache.

"I don't know what's more pathetic." chuckled a voice behind him. "The fact that _you're_ messing with the vending machines, or the fact that the vending machines are messing _with you_."

_"Wha?"_ Ron said. He turned his head to see the campus janitor. He had his mop in one hand, and his bucket in the other. He was a dark-skinned human, bald with black facial hair and bright blue eyes. He set down his bucket and inserted his mop, whereas he began to mop the floor, saying as he went,

"I knew as soon as we upgraded those things that you were going to break into 'em. I just didn't know that I'd have the honor of seein it happen myself." the janitor laughed, "Looks like you got yourself into a trap, and a good one at that."

Ron rolled his eyes and continued bangin his head on the machine. The janitor laughed and said, "As if that's going to do anything. You know son, I've been watching you break into these things ever since you came here, and I haven't said anything just because I used to do the same thing."

_"What?" _Ron said.

_"Hell yeah." _sighed the janitor. _"Those were good days... back when being a Com tech meant something in the Empire..."_

_"Wait, now, wait a minute."_ Ron said. "_You're a graduated Com tech? Heh, I can't believe it. Why the hell are you doing this when you could be earning double your salary? And what does this have to do with me being stuck in a damned vending machine?"_ he pulled at his arm, but gave up half way.

"That's right." the janitor continued. "Used to do some hardcore hacking in my day. But I was best at fixing stuff that people hacked into rather than breaking into it myself. So they hired me to fix all the stuff you young fellas break into... along with the regular duties." He indicated his mop and bucket.

_"So all this time, you're the one who's been making my vending-hacking life hard?"_ asked Ron.

"Pretty much." laughed the janitor. "And now it looks like you're tricks have caught up to you. But don't worry, I won't say a word... just remember, every time you break those things, I'm going to fix em so you can't do it again. I'm going to win this little war... and there's nothing you can do about it."

The janitor laughed some more and then picked up his bucket and started to walk off.

_"Well wait a minute!"_ yelled Ron. _"How do I get out of here so that I can prove to you that you're wrong?"_

"Third Row, second can." yelled back the janitor.

_"What the..."_ thought Ron to himself. He started to feel the different rows of cans in the machines until he found the third row, whereas he reached for the second can in the line. As he pulled it out, he heard a click, and the clinch released him. Ron yanked out his arm, grabbed his books, and sprinted to class.

_"So that's who's been fixing the machines!"_ thought Ron. _"Well we're just going to have to come up with a real stumper of a trap-door this time... a real knock out..."_

As he thought this he reached his room and entered the class room.

"Mr. Goron, it seems that your rather late arrival to class has all but paid off... for you see, you have arrived just in time to take the exam." came the voice of his instructor.

_"I'm very sorry Sgnt Ross, you see I was..."_

"No, no, I don't need your excuses Ron, neither do I need you to pass this class... however it would be somewhat comforting to me to know that one of my most promising students will take the time to attend the last and most important cession of this class..." said Sgnt. Ross.

_"I understand sir, I just wanted to say that..."_ stammered Ron.

"Well at least you are here." sighed Mr. Ross. "Let's see if you learned anything while you _did_ attend my class."

Ron passed other students who had finished taking the private exam, most of whom passed (as Sgnt. Ross was a good teacher). Ross lead Ron up to a computer terminal, where Ron sat down.

"This test will be divided into 3 sections. In the first part, you will successfully hack into a protected computer; in the second part, you will upload the full diagnostics of this class room; and in the third part you will use the diagnostics to tell me exactly how many tiles are on the floor." said Ross.

_"Tiles sir?"_ queried Ron.

"Don't ask, just do." said Ross. "First part! Hack into this system."

Ron entered the system and was immediately beset by various choices. On one hand, he could attempt to pick the password lock by entering a glitch word or words which could temporarily gain him access. On the other hand, he could bipass security by creating a miniature program that would allow him to skip security. He thought on those two for a second before suddenly choosing a different path. He would simply download one of his own bypass codes into the terminal.

Ross watched with approval as Ron entered the codes from his wristpad. The codes cleared the security, and Ron was instantly forwarded to the main page.

"Well done." he commented. "Simple, but effective. Now you must download the area diagnostics."

"Done." reported Ron immediately.

"Alright lets see... good... yes, it appears you have a grasp on this after all Mr. Goron, perhaps those few classes you attended were well used." He now pointed to the area map and said, "How many tiles?"

Ron looked at the area diagnostics. He could see the desks and sudents and even them... but when he looked at the floor, it just looked like one plain sheet. He looked down at the real floor under his feet just to make sure that there were tiles.

Ron looked up and grinned. _"I count one sir."_

That would be correct, laughed Ross. "You have no idea how many of my students miss that question. There are some that try and figure it out by looking at the map, and there are some that forget how to count and they reply '0'. Looks like you've done well."

_"I passed sir?"_ Ron asked.

"Yes you have." Ross replied. "Even with all your short-comings. Although I must ask... where were you that kept you from attending this time?"

_"I tried to tell you sir, the janitor..."_ started Ron.

"Say no more." said Ross. "Please do it on your own time... I expect you to arrive on time tomorrow for the second part of this class, the Electronics Operation."

_"Thank you sir... I will."_ replied Ron.


	4. My Broken Computer

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 2: System Control

Story 2: Basic Electronics

My Broken Computer

"No, no... its that one." said Ron anxiously. He was leaning over the counter at the mail room- and was directing an older, slower trooper as to the location of his package. Unfortunately for Ron, his package was on the bottom of a heavy pyramid composed entirely of the very same product.

"What's in these boxes anyways?" grumbled the trooper. He clearly wasn't too happy about having to fish out the desired box.

"It's a laptop, and since its unassembled its still very... _delicate_! Ron closed his eyes as several of the boxes fell off the top. Fortunately they were caught by the trooper underneath.

"Damn computers." he said. He gave the box another experimental tug, stopped as he saw the tower waiver, and then pulled it free. "Here." he said. He grumbled some other conjectures, shook his head, and finally handed it over to Ron.

"Thanks." replied Ron absentmindedly. He was thinking about the laptop within the box, the most important part of a Comm tech's equipment. It was essential that he glean as much from today's lecture as possible.

- - -

Two hours later, Ron was seated in the middle of a large auditorium. On the state up front was his old teacher Sgt. Shracken.

"Now proceed with the assembly of your computers." he said. Everywhere there could be heard the sound of ripping as the packaging material disintegrated beneath the eager hands of students. Every piece that Ron retrieved from his package was familiar to him, as they were to all the students; extensive training had prepared them for this very reason.

"Lay the outer shell aside, and begin to assemble the operating system." said Shracken once all the packages were undone.

Ron took the parts to the operating system and connected them to the other parts. Fortunately it was not part of his training to _create_ his own OS, he just had to know how to hook it up. After Ron had put together the memory, power supply, chip drives, sound and video and expansion cards, and other parts that he needed to create the system; he set down his work and waited for new commands. He did not have long to wait, for all the students were quick and knew what they were doing.

"Build the shell." drolled Shracken. Everywhere students pulled out the flat, metallic pieces and began to slowly place the parts within them, making sure to set everything in its alloted slot.

Ron had no difficulty finding the correct pieces, but he had some trouble fitting them together. Unfortunately, when training shell covers are made, they aren't made to fit so well together. These were, of course, training grade covers- not very well made, not very durable, and not very easy to assemble. Ron had just snapped the final side to the other two that joined it when he heard Shracken say,

"Monitors!" That was the easiest part. Ron took out the monitor, attached the three wires to their respective slots, and set it down. He wasn't the first to be done, but he certainly wasn't the last. Once this was finished, Shracken took the floor once more.

"Congratulations." he began. "You just built your first computer, and so consequently have earned a likely praise. But this isn't the end of the test, in fact... that wasn't the test at all... _CRASH!_"

Even before he finished, Shracken picked up a student's computer and threw it to the floor. Those students beside him leaned over their desks and shook their heads. They pitied the boy, but were grateful that it wasn't their computer that had fallen. Not for long. Shracken threw the next one down, and then the next, and the next, and he walked up the entire row throwing the laptops to the ground. This continued until every single laptop was broken on the floor.

"Great." Thought Ron. "Classic Shracken teaching." Ron knew from experience how ruthless Shracken was in the classroom; it was a characteristic of him that hardened during the war. Ron hoped that the same wouldn't happen to him once he was deployed.

"Fix it." Shracken said finally. He crossed his arms and half-smiled, the expressions on the student's faces were too comical to resist smiling.

"Umm... sir..." said one recruit.

"What?" snapped Shracken.

"My computer, it's not broken..." the soldier stammered.

Shracken walked over to the recruit and picked up the undamaged computer. Then lifting it over his head he threw it down several rows, where it landed with a sickening crash. Parts scattered across the floor, the most distant piece being the fan cylinder, which rolled down the center isle.

"Th... thank you... Sir." mumbled the recruit.

"My pleasure, Private." returned the Sergeant.

Ron shook his head at the recruit, and wished he had been the lucky one to have the undamaged computer. He certainly wouldn't have complained! Yet upon inspecting his own computer, his thoughts returned to the task at hand.

He was in a bit of trouble. After inspecting the main damage, he found that the damaged pieces were few, but in bad shape. His chip drives were the parts that suffered the most, the output cavities having completely collapsed upon themselves from the impact. Ron popped out the drives, and hoped that there were replacements in the extra parts given to him. There were none.

Ron sighed. He took a screwdriver and slowly, but surely, pried the cavities back open. He then took some electrical tape and taped them together, to prevent loosened parts from disassembling. Once this was done, he reinserted them, and prayed that they still worked. He got lucky, and with a little tinkering, managed to get them back to working condition. The only other damaged part of the computer was the display screen, which was badly shattered. Ron took out the replacement provided and correctly inserted it into the monitor. Once this was done Ron set down the computer and called for Shracken to inspect his work.

Shracken inspected Ron's work with approval.

"You must realize that these computers aren't combat grade. These shells are entirely too thin to really get any use out of, so that little problem you had with the drives won't likely happen in a hurry."

He looked at the monitor screen as well, and after approving it, left Ron's completed work to inspect the pathetic attempts of a fellow student down the aisle.

"Now as for you Draco... What? No, your not supposed to remove _all_ the wires when repairing! Just the _damaged_ ones! A little sense goes a long way Mr. Draco!"


	5. Hardware Theory

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 3: Theory

Story 1: Hardware Theory

My Lesson: Return of the Janitor

As the day drew close to an end, Ron felt quite sure that no one was left to apprehend him, that is: to apprehend the greatest beer heist he had ever accomplished. Ron had become a master at the art of beer burglary, he relished in the pure joy of breaking into the refreshment vending machines. Of course Ron had his good intentions. Hacking the vending machines was not easy, and many former students had failed miserably in the attempt. Ron did not give up so easily, however, and after his encounter with the Janitor (his new nemesis) Ron stepped up his game.

Ron had a special vending machine in mind, the new one in front of the faculty room. This was (Ron was convinced) the King of them all. It not only served beer, but it served just about any other alcoholic drink that was still legal in that part of the galaxy. It was a worthy foe to conquer.

Upon approaching the colossal machine, Ron smiled and took out his personal laptop from his duffle bag. Then he took out a solder pen and pliers, and began to remove the IC insert plate.

"Weakest part of the whole thing." Ron said to himself.

As expected, the plate was removed quite easily. It was a matter of minutes before Ron was able to access the computer within. After a spending a few seconds arranging the hookup between laptop and vendor, Ron entered the all-nescessary code to get the precious drinks.

That's when things went wrong.

As soon as Ron entered his confirmation pin number (which was probably the easiest part) his laptop and the vending machine was shut off immediately. Ron sat in panic for a few minutes, before finally realizing that his code had been blocked, and the vendor had recognized a security breach.

"Damn." whispered Ron. He had not expected this to happen. Most of the vending machines had no other choice than to accept his tampering with them. This time he had been stopped cold.

"I suppose you were expecting "The King" to let you off easy, eh?" chuckled a very familiar voice from behind Ron. Ron answered without looking back, he it was the Janitor.

"You're good." said Ron. "But not _that_ good. All I need to do is find the right bypass code..."

"You weren't stopped because of your codes, son." grinned the Janitor. "You were stopped because what you're looking for is a removable drive; you don't have the hardware."

Ron closed his eyes. He didn't know how to use hardware. He was used to using small OS commands that gave him what he wanted, when he wanted. Working with hardware was a whole other domain for him.

"I can't do it then." Ron whispered to himself.

"Sounds to me..." said the Janitor suddenly. "...that you could use a course or two in Hardware Theory."

Ron groaned. He had intended on skipping Hardware Theory for the singular reason that he didn't think he needed it.

"Better get back to class." he said.

Ron got up stiffly, packed up his equipment, and walked up to get to his class (which by now had already started). The Janitor stayed behind him, with his half-grin still pasted upon his face.

"He's a good kid." said the Janitor to himself. Reaching into his left breast pocket, he pulled out an odd looking coin. In fact, it wasn't a coin at all. The Janitor placed the 'coin' in the slot and pressed the button for the beer twice. Out came two beers.

The Janitor smiled, picked up the drinks, and laughed. "Sometimes I think them kids make it too hard on themselves."

But as he proceeded down the hall, sweeping and whistling softly to himself, he rushed back to the machine in a rush.

"Almost forgot." he said. And as he pushed the coin return knob, out came his odd little coin- right into his hand.

_ _ _

Ron learned a valuable lesson earlier. He knew now that to beat the Janitor, he would have to learn everything and anything to get what he wanted... and he knew that nothing would stop him.

"Not even boring professors." Ron said to himself sadly. For truly, for Ron, there was no more boring class than hardware theory. But Ron remembered the humiliating experience with the Janitor and forced himself to listen.

He learned about the motherboard, and the power supply, and all the other parts that he was used to hearing. He was surprised to know that he had used each part that the teacher instructed, sometimes without even knowing it. But Ron was especially interested in the last part of what the instructor had to say, about the 'removable hardware.'

"Removable hardware," the professor said, "is basically what we know as CD's, ZIP drives, USB flash drives, when they are plugged into the system, their information can be accessed. The benefit to these is the fact that without the removable hardware, the information cannot be otherwise accessed."

"Of course!" thought Ron to himself. That was why he couldn't break in, in order to access 'The King' he needed to create an external hardware drive that would let him access the computer via a port.

"It seems so simple now." Thought Ron, "But to think that I had to learn it the hard way..." (Ron was alluding to his embarrassing situation with the Janitor)

The lesson was concluded with written a test, which Ron passed easily (it was mostly terms and essay), and as soon as the class was adjourned; he left to use his newfound knowledge. He inspected the machine and discovered a small port on the back, probably used for setting prices. After a few days, Ron had created the perfect compact drive to insert into the USB port.

This time, it was easy. Ron programmed the drive to give him as many beers as he pushed the button for. So when he went to the machine and pushed the button five times, he was quite surprised when only one came out.

"You just never seem to get it, do you kid?" came the Janitor's voice.

"What is this?" replied Ron. "It's like everytime I catch up to you, you get an even farther lead on me."

"Keep on trying." reassured the Janitor. "One of these days your going to figure out that vending machines are the least of your worries... and once you do that, you'll be among the best of your class."

"Better than you?" questioned Ron.

"Of course not." grinned the Janitor. "You've got a long way to go before you even come close.

As Ron watched the dark-skinned man walk down the hallway with pail in hand, he couldn't help but admire him... even if he did resent him for all the trouble he gave Ron over those damned vending machines.


	6. My Impossible Test

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 3: Theory

Story 2: Software Interface Theory

My Impossible Test

"_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._"

Eyes of tremendously bored students were glued to the singular source of relief in the longest class of the day, the clock. Neither time nor pace went quickly in that class, because it was a Software Interface course; either you know it, or you don't. But here, students didn't care if they knew it, they just wanted out. And so they watched with their reddened eyes and drooling mouths; they watched.

"_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick..._"

"Mr. Goron!" Ah! Something different than the importance of relative speeds of connection. The students turned their gaze to a young student in the front, a student of twenty or so who was well known to be one of the finest hackers in the class- when it came to stealing drinks from vending machines. Yet at this moment he was about to known for another bit of worthless production. Ron was sleeping.

Oh yes, he was definitely sleeping. As his chest heaved up and down on the desktop, making his spread eagled arms rise and fall, the demanding address stopped his breathing and made him inhale deeply... but but it didn't stop him from falling back into his deep sleep. He hadn't budged an inch after his name was called; only his eyes flickered, flickered and opened, and shut once again.

"Mis-ter Gor-on!" repeated the instructor, old Major Sims. He accented each syllable of Ron's name (or part of it) before he himself approached the sleeping student and...

"SMACK."

...brought his ruler down with a resounding crash on Ron's desk, coming a hair's width away from hitting him full force on the head. The sound not only woke Ron with a start, but also deafened him temporarily.

"Mr. Goron!" said Sims, quite exasperated.

"Mmm?" said Ron sleepily.

"Do you have _any idea_ as to what the lesson up until now as about? Or is it safe to assume that you were _not paying attention_? And by 'not paying attention' I mean catching up on your very valuable rest and disregarding anything that I, or your classmates, has to say."

"Connecting speeds." said Ron simply. He looked about the room at the open textbooks that revealed the answer. Did Sims take him for a moron?

"Well at least we know you can read." sneered Sims. He shut the books nearest to Ron and came up to him face to face.

"But can you tell me any specifics?" he said. Up close, Ron could see every detail of Sim's face... even the tiny black nose hairs that curled from beneath purple, bloated nostrils.

"I... I suppose so..." said Ron at length.

"Excellent." Sims cackled. "Give me the connection cable needed for an inverted kotashi terminal."

"_Double chain_." replied Ron instantly.

"Green board."

"_Mox cord_."

"Silver table."

"_Flathead_."

"Exocom..."

"_Scion Double-prong cable box, and depending on the 'year of production' of the Exocom Axle Table, either a single or triple extension line._"

"Quiet!" yelled Sims. His face was very red with anger, which spread all over his face, but still not pigmenting the very violet which was his nose.

"Your mocking tune, Mr. Goron, will now come to it's screeching end!"

"Ron-Goron." Ron whispered. "No last name."

"Give me the first name of the Auk Line Timetables, MII."

"Auk Line _Timetables_?" thought Ron. He knew vaguely about the Auk Line Datapads, but they were very outdated and never used anymore. An Auk Line Timetable couldn't have been much younger than those, considering that they lost all their marketability half a century ago...

But, to answer his question, Ron knew that the Auk Line _always_ named their prototypes according to the order in which they were made, and so the predecessor of Auk MII, must have been Auk MI.

"Auk MI?" said Ron.

"Nooo." laughed Sims, grinning ear to ear. He was almost dancing around the room with delight.

"Can anyone inform 'Mr. Goron' what the correct name is?"

Only one person raised her hand. Larsa Thy'lak, the only twi'leki in the class (and also the academic rival of Ron's) sat in the very back, a privilege that was only given to 'prized' students. Ron had the potential, but he clearly wasn't Sims favorite of students.

"Yesss, Ms. Thy'lak."

"N." she said. "Auk N."

"And that of course is correct, my dear." Turning back to Ron with not nearly as kind a tone, he sneered, "Perhaps an arrangement can be made for your tutelage under Ms. Thy'lak."

"I'd rather die." said Ron flatly.

"Go see if that _can_ be arranged, would you?" said Sims. In the meantime...

"_Tick... tick... RING!_"

Every student got up with a jump and headed out the door. Curiously enough, most of them had forgotten about the clock, so engaged was their interest in Ron's predicament. But now they did not pity him, especially when they heard Sim shout,

"Would Mr. Goron and Ms. Thy'lak please remain after class!"

"O death." grumbled Ron.

He spun back around and waited in an empty desk. The room seemed bigger now without any students, but he wasn't thinking about the missing students; he was fixing a dark gaze on the young twilek who was busy talking to Sims. Ron greatly disliked her, mostly because of Sims' favoritism, but also because he considered her to be his only threat when it came to outsmarting him.

After a few minutes, the talk grew slightly heated. Thy'lak clearly was uneasy about something, and took a few moments to convince. Whatever it was that Sims wanted, if Shy'lak didn't want it, then Ron heavily doubted that he would care to hear it. Soon it was his turn to speak to Sims.

"Ah yes, the man who knows it all." Sims indicated to a nearby desk, but Ron ignored the jester and remained standing. "I have come to my decision regarding your test in Software Interface... you are familiar with the test, of course- connect to three different computer sources using three different types of connections- however I do not think you are acquainted with your partner."

"Partner?" Ron repeated. A sick feeling was growing in his stomach. _Was this what Sims was talking to Thy'lak about?_

"Yes." Sims said. "Your partner will be Larsa Thy'lak."

Ron was so surprised, that he literally was taken 'aback.' He stumbled backwards a few paces before saying,

"Larsa Thy'lak... is _my_ partner?"

"Are you deaf? I said so, yes, she is your partner and I expect you to, ahem, cooperate with her."

Ron knew that something was up. Whatever could have possessed Sims to think up _that_ kind of partnering? It was a crazy match, even the professors who liked Ron would object. Tests are not made to be impossible, perhaps hard, but never impossible; and in this respect Sims was making it damned close to being impossible!

Sims seemed to read Ron's mind perfectly. "Ahh. You do understand why I paired you up with her don't you? After all, her progress in my class has advanced rapidly- in fact, I am so satisfied with her work that I'm sure even partnering her with _you_ couldn't possibly make her fail. You on the other hand- well, you are such a miserable wreck that I'm sure the details in the test will be too much for you to handle. Yes, you do seem to understand the mechanics of it all..." Sims spat onto the floor in disgust. "But I'm sure once you are given a real challenge you will prove to be the miserable flunk I always knew you'd be."

"You seem very sure of yourself." responded Ron spitefully.

"Your grade will only prove it." cackled Sims.

"So you are trying to fail me... how?" said Ron. Yes he had been partnered up with the most impossible partner in his class, but still- she was undoubtedly one of the smartest. If Ron managed to get along with her only _partially_ he was sure to pass.

"Oh. Didn't I tell you?" laughed Sims. "Only _one_ of you will pass!"

So that was it. Sims was turning the test into a competition between his most hated student and his most favored student. That was clearly what the twi'leki had been against. What it entailed was a race to see who could connect to each computer interface first. Since there was only three of them to be connected, one of them would have two connections and the other would only have one. That way their would be a definite winner and loser.

"I have no choice?" said Ron weakly.

"None at all," Sims replied. "Unless of course you want to retake the course and take the test next semester..."

That was not possible- he would never admit defeat willingly.

"Tomorrow then?" Ron said.

"Tomorrow." Sims replied, with his devilish smile.

tomorrow came without any relief. Ron awoke in his bunk in a cold sweat, put on his casual uniform, and walked down to the shower house. After washing, he packed all his equipment needed (and allowed) which amounted to his laptop, and headed down to the Software Interface testing room.

Ron entered the room with blinking eyes, but they closed completely (along with the wrinkles on Ron's disgruntled face) when he heard Major Sims' voice.

"Good morning, Mr. Goron. You are strangely early today, but not so much as to beat Ms. Thy'lak."

A cold nod from Larsa was Ron's greeting. Ron mimicked the nod with the same coldness.

"Well now that you've met, you might as well have at it. Your consoles are located at the first section of the room- so that I can keep an eye on you, Mr. Goron."

"And on Thy'lak, undoubtedly." grunted Ron.

Once they came to their station, Ron and Thy'lak silently put down their backpacks and pulled out their equipment. They would not be allowed to start testing connections until Sims gave the order.

"Alright now." started Sims. "The rules are simple: The test is basically a race to see which one of you can connect to each computer interface first. Since there is only three computers to be connected, one of you will have two connections and the other one will only have one, or in the case that I predict, one of you will have three and the other zero." he paused before saying, "once you have connected to the target computer, you must type a message which includes your name- and you must insert that into the system's log. The computers will keep track of the winning and losing times. Are you ready?"

No response followed from either student.

"Begin." said Sims. And begin they did.

It was a mad race during the first connection. Both students quickly identified the target computer as a Silver table which -as mentioned before- required a flathead connection cable. After this was done, both students typed up their name and waited for the result.

Upon a monitor in the front of the class, the times shown were:

[Larsa Thy'lak: 12:23.5]//[Ron-Goron: 12:23.77]

"Aha!" said Sims "A hit! One down, Mr. Goron! You must keep up if you intend to pass this class!"

Larsa didn't say a word, but looked very smug as she raced to connect to the second one. Ron was disappointed, but knew his only chance was to beat her to the next one.

The next computer was more complex, and so required more time to connect to. The easy part was determining what kind of computer it was. Both students identified it as a Quadic Terminal ery quickly, but the connection type was not so easily determined. Only two was known to connect to the Quadics, but only one would give them access with the speed they wanted.

Ron picked the Dromedy Line.

Larsa chose the Nominal Tripolis connection.

Ron's was faster. As soon as they connected to the computer, they inserted their names, and looked to the monitor screen.

[Ron-Goron: 34:35.00]//[Larsa Thy'lak: 35:40.12]

"Bad luck." Sims grumbled. "Well done Mr. Goron, you've proved yourself to have some worth in you. But I'm afraid you have no chance in the next and last set."

Ron doubted that statement, but realized how near to truth it was when he inspected the last computer. The computer itself was a very basic make, the Kotashi Terminal. What was odd about it was that it acted like an inverted Kotashi Terminal- without the double chain connectability. In other words- the computer had been prehacked to deny double chain connection which was normally used to connect to an inverted Kotashi Terminal. Ron tried every connection he knew for the regular Kotashi's without any success. Soon he was reduced to a very contemplative state.

He looked over at Larsa's progress. She was flying away at connecting, not stopping for anything it seemed. What was odd about it was the fact that she had not connected to the other computer, all the work had been done on her laptop alone. Suddenly she pulled out the connection cord and plugged it into the target terminal, whereas she stopped working and looked forward.

There on the screen before them read the time for Larsa:

[Larsa Thy'lak: 38:50.29_9]_

"And there it is!" laughed Sims time. "Try as you might, Mr. Goron, its over!"

Ron read the time and knew exactly what had happened. He also knew it was far from over.

"That extra nine in the hundredths place shouldn't be there." he said to himself. That indicates a hack code- a connection that uses a finer code than the simple connection. Well. Sims probably gave her those codes. If they want to play rough, then they so can I."

Ron played his next move very well. First he went into his laptop control panel and froze his time, using a bypass OS code that allowed him 5 minutes of free time. Then he took a carbon cable from his equipment pack and manually connected the two computers. This was an illegal procedure in the test (Major Sims' test anyways), which would only give him access to some files. Once he was on, Ron searched for the Control and Connection Information panel. He found this:

Connection Type: Inverted Tabletop

Inverted Tabletop! That was the connection used to connect to _staff computers_, which were Silverline by make- not Kotashi. Ron ignored the flagrant contrast in computing rules- if the Silverline wanted Inverted Tabletop- then thats what it would get. He just couldn't believe that Sims would pull such a dirty move

Ron got back on his computer and opened an Inverted Tabletop connection easily. But before he typed in his message, he went into his time database and _changed the time_.

Soon after, his name was up on the screen.

[Ron-Goron: 38:50.298]//[Larsa Thy'lak: 38:50.299]

"Impossible!" screeched Sims. "Mr. Goron, you finished a good ten minutes after Ms. Thy'lak!"

"Not according to _your test_ I didn't."

Major Sims knew what Ron did, but he couldn't do anything about it. He had hoped Ron wouldn't find an answer to the clever trap he had set, but of course, he knew that this was the price he had to pay for cheating. To do anything about it would only expose his own attempt to unfairly fail Ron.

"Congratulations, Mr. Goron." choked Sims, "On your passing of Software Interface." he turned to his prize student.

"Ms. Thy'lak... I'll see... I'll see you tomorrow at class." And with that, Major Sims picked up his heavy briefcase, opened the door, and headed towards the campus cantina; where he would drink his 'Mr. Goron' troubles away.


	7. My Radio

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 3: Theory

Story 3: Antenna Theory

My Radio

The only thing that could be heard above the wind was the loud music that was blasted in the back of the transport. They were in a large open-framed transport, about thirty-five feet off the ground, in the middle of a large forest on Tadath- just outside the military base. Ron was fully equipped in his white battle armor, as well as the rest of the class. They were informed that their Antenna Theory class would be a fresh step away from the hum-drum of the classroom tactics of teaching. Their instructor, a young battle experienced First Sergeant, called Folk was near the front of the transport- giving directions to the pilot.

Most of the troopers remained silent. It was hard to talk in the transport when it's sides were exposed and open- and it was inconvenient to wear their helmets just yet- so most of them just held the hand rail above them and were silent. Those who wished to talk, though, were close to each other so that they could be heard. Ron was close enough to one of these groups to understand what they were saying.

"Hope he isn't taking us out too far." said one. "I'm hungry, I am."

"He's taking us out far enough so that we're out of contact range of the base." said another wisely. "Folk's a smart one. He doesn't want any of us cheating our way out of theory."

"Wasn't too hard for some of us." said the first- directing the comment to Ron.

"Wasn't too hard for others either." said Ron right back at the first.

The trooper who first made the comment was called Symon. He had made the comment about Ron cheating due to Ron's incident with Major Sims regarding the Software Interface Theory Test. As much as Ron may have 'cheated' there, it was not nearly as bad as Symon's cheating. Symon got through every class through hacking and viruses- if it wasn't for Symon's ill skills, he never would have made it to Theory.

"We're coming up to the location for today's class." shouted Folk from up front. "You won't need any of your supplies that you brought with you- you can just leave them on the transport."

All the troopers relaxed. This probably meant that the class and exam would be an easy one. It would be a relief after the stressful classes they had taken in Theory up until now. Shortly after this announcement all the troopers had taken off their armor and lay aside their equipment. The only thing that they kept with them were their books calculators.

"Oh, one more thing." said Folk. "Better bring your weapons incase we get some animals for company."

After the last trooper had left the transport and landed on the vegetated forest floor, Folk put a foot on the edge of the landed transport exit door.

"Now I know you all were getting ready for a large test involving the mathematics and structural theory regarding antennas and the way that radio signals work." said Folk.

The troopers nodded.

"Well that's not what the test is on." said Folk at last. "As you can see from our location- we are not in a classroom, and so your test will not be with pencil and paper."

The students groaned. They guessed as much. Ron in particular wasn't too happy. He was naturally good at math and physics, and so was disappointed to learn that the test would not be as easy as he thought.

"Instead you will be required to make your own communications equipment. We are far enough from the main base so that you can not run home for supplies within a few days- and I made you leave your computers and com packs on the transport here."

The students were dumbstruck. Ron was astounded. Make their own communications equipment indeed! The very idea was simply rediculous to these freshmen of the empire. They were _always_ supplied with what they needed...

"I will be a few miles away. Once you are able to send a message of some kind to me- I will arrive with the transport to pick you up. Good luck!"

And with that, First Sergeant Folk left his class in the middle of the forest.

_ _ _

"He's joking right?" said Symon.

"He can't do this can he?" said another. "It's a Theory class, not survival."

"Folk is getting us ready for war." said another trooper. "If you can't take it then leave."

"It's not even that hard." said Ron suddenly.

Symon spat in Ron's direction. "I don't see how. Can't cheat your way out of this one, Beer boy."

"Oh come on." said Ron. "All we need to do is make a radio."

A radio? No one actually, really uses radios. It was much simpler to use the Communication microphones in their helmets.

"Too weak." said a trooper.

"A good radio can reach from here to the base." said Ron. "Something less that than can certainly reach Folk."

"He's right." said an older trooper, named Cal. Cal was a communications tech who had been deployed off-planet for a few years. He was back to finish his training.

"We made a radio out of some gun parts back when I was deployed on Yavin IV, reached a good seven miles clear as a bell." said Cal.

"So." said Symon. He threw Cal his E-11. "You're saying you can make a radio out of _that_?"

"It's been a while." said Cal. "But yeah, its possible."

"Well we need to open it first." said Ron simply. He grabbed the E-11 and took it apart with ease- something every trooper was expected to do quickly."

Ron first ripped out a tiny circuit board- used to light up and control the tiny screen that the soldiers looked at to see how much ammo they had left.

"We're going to need this..."

Next he found a crystal clock oscillator- found near the digital screen of the gun.

"And this..."

Last he took out the magazine clip and power supply required for the automatic reload.

"To power it." he said simply.

Cal nodded and said. "Right. Ron found the Circuit board, Oscillator, battery and battery clip. All we need is an amplifier of some kind, jumpers, and antenna wire."

Slowly the parts were found. Ear buds from a personal music player was used for the amplifier (although for some reason the music player was not with them), jumpers were made out of some of the wires found in the gun, and another wire was being slowly wrapped with an insulator to form the antenna.

"Right, we're all ready." said Cal after a while.

"On thing still that we don't have." said Ron. "An audio transmitter."

Without an audio transmitter they could hear messages, but they could not send them.

"Well... what if... what if we used a diode?" said one trooper nervously.

"Yeah." said another trooper. "That would work perfect- except no one has one!"

"Well, wait." said Cal. "Ron, do you have a lighter?"

Of course he did. Actually, Ron was feeling like he needed a smoke right about then...

"Want a smoke?" said Ron simply.

"Not exactly." said Cal. "Does your lighter make any sound?"

Ron flipped it open expertly and started a flame. After a few seconds he held it open and the flame extinguished.

"Nothing." said Cal.

Suddenly Ron collapsed the lid and a short dull beep followed.

"It beeped." said Cal.

"So?" said Ron.

"There could be a diode in it." said Cal. He looked at Ron eagerly, but Ron only looked disappointed.

"Figures it would come to this." he said simply. Ron lit one more death-stick before extinguishing the flame and throwing it to Cal.

"That's my last one too." he grumbled.

_ _ _

Within the next hour they had the radio assembled and they sent out several messages in all four directions. Soon after they heard the transport overhead. Out came Folk who was grinning ridiculously.

"You guys finished quicker than I had anticipated. Let me see it... excellent. Good, you used your weapons, I hoped you would."

He waited until all the troopers were aboard before finishing up. He went over a few details explaining the pros and cons of their primitive radio before shouting above the wind and music:

"Does anyone have any questions?"

"Me Sir!" shouted back Ron. "Do you have a lighter?"

"What?" shouted Folk.

"_Do you have a lighter?!_"


	8. My War

AU: I'd like to thank our reviewers Code Aster and especially Mister Elven Spear

Ron thanks you as well, the writer of this series. I was expecting a lot of hits on this story, but it seems to be doing okay, so I talked with Ron and we're going to pull in some more character stories about him, his days as a Private up until he hits Squad-Leader.

Please check the website on our profile page out. Any recruit who contacts Aeos on the Vast Empire from will receive a present from me(Aeos) from the Imperial Store into their First Galactic Bank Accounts. This is if they can survive Naval or Army Academies.

Enough of my chattering however, on with the adventures of Ron!

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 4: Battle Analysis

Story 1: Battle Analysis

My War

_  
"You are the few elite, you are in this class because you have proved your ability. With that comes great responsibility."_1

Ron's class had dwindled down to seven people; seven people out of the three hundred who started. Most troopers weren't interested in completing their training because they didn't need to. They all knew that squads picked up Communication Technicians quickly; for there were few enough of them so that even a poor com tech would get chosen reasonably fast. Ron wasn't interested in letting his training slip, he had too much to learn; and there was the honor of actually becoming a qualified Communications Technician! That in and of itself was worth more than any promotion or medal.

And then there was the Janitor. Ron thought about how his greatest adversary came as the most unlikely of people; how he had been fooled with the greatest advances of technology by a mop and broom. Yet the Janitor was not his enemy as he first thought; Ron realized that he was a mentor, someone who Ron must remember to thank one day...  
_  
"...and so it is your responsibility to preform your tasks with fortitude and diligence, you will no longer be hacking into computers in a classroom- but on a battlefield."_

Ron took out his new battle-grade laptop. It came with wireless cored extensions (so that connecting to enemy computers would be less strenuous) and a bullet proof monitor screen. The day before, upon receiving them, they were shown an example of exactly how durable their new laptops were. A single laptop was thrown down three stories, was shot twice by a slug pistol and was even dipped in a tub of water. None of the hazards had any effect on the 'supertops', as they were nicknamed by some of the students, but they were still easy to take apart and put together.  
_  
"So we finally come to what I consider to be your greatest test, other than the final exam of course. You must use everything you have learned so far to learn the most important skill for any communications technician. You must learn how to read a battlefield; how to intercept enemy messages and use them to gain enemy territory; how to take the logistics of a given territory and find their weaknesses, strengths, and assets; in short you must become efficient in the area of Battle Analysis."_

So said their instructor Prof. Wethers. He was a grizzled old man with bright blue eyes and a weathered complexion. His white hair spread away from his head in a tangled mess, and his round black rim glasses hung off his nose so far that their very stability was a puzzlement to students. Most interesting of all was the fact that he was not enlisted in the army, he was a analytical thinker, and a genius, who preferred to donate his time and effort to the war by teaching students to think. How could the army turn away such an eager and gifted man?

Ron's hand raised above the heads of the small class.

"Yes Ron?"

Wethers was conscious of Ron's dislike of being referred to as "Mr. Goron." so he dropped to the title in the hopes of securing Ron's interest in his class. The polite action had the desired effect. Ron took an interest in teacher _and_ class; so much so that he positively led the class as far as grades and merit could allow him to. Ron was close to turning into a bona fide pupil.

"What kind of test are we to expect?" said Ron. He was preparing himself for a written exam by studying nightly about every strategic maneuver and tactic that Wethers had ever taught the class.

"One cannot learn military tactics by memorizing them and implementing them as one would learn math." said Wethers. "A good deal of understanding battle analysis depends on good judgement and spur of the moment decisions. The ability to read and apply tactics in the classroom is nothing compared to the real experience on the battlefield." answered Wethers.

"Because of this I have decided to make your test more of a challenge, and more of a credit to yourselves. I have watched you're progress over the past few weeks and I am certain that you have the ability to preform to satisfaction. Your test will be a simulation; a model of a war zone in which you will be thrown into to test your readiness. It is through your proficiency under these circumstances that will determine your ability to preform at the next level."

So that was it. They would be thrown into a simulation war zone; everything from the computer created people to the holographic world would seem real. The troopers would have to react as they would in real life- or their careers as comm techs would be in peril.

"Pack your things." said Wethers. "In two hours you will be required to meet me at the entrance Graff Building of Technology."

Two hours passed quickly. There was so much to do in preparation for a real-time simulation. Ron made his way to the Graff building immediately to get himself logged into the system and to check himself into the the computer with the rest of the class. They entered the glass sliding doors and proceeded to the library and preparatory chamber.

Once inside the high ceilinged room they were met by Wether's who gave them all pass cards for later use. Then one by one they were allowed into the simulation control room for preparatory work and instruction.

Ron was the first who was scheduled to test. He entered the small control room and was guided to a large touch screen computer. Once his feet, palms, and face were facing forward- a scanner ran from his head to toes relaying information on the screen. Following this, a synthetic human voice read allowed the data.  
_  
"Reading data: Ron-Goron. Six feet tall. Five foot eleven inches wingspan. Green eyes. Two inch hair length. Color brown. Moving on to encrypting data: processing DNA structure. Searching for chromosome mutations: none found. Gene structure: normal. Mediclorian count..."_2

"That will not be needed, Polonius." said an officer suddenly.

_"Duely noted sir."_ replied the computer.

Once this was done the computer spoke to Ron in a more personal tone.

_"Welcome to the simulation control room, Ron-Goron. I will begin your preparation by allowing you to build your squad."_

Polonius, the computer, brought up a panel on the giant screen which showed seven clones of Ron.

"Awesome." said Ron. "We'll call it Ron Squad, Polonius."

_"Ron Squad it is."_ Polonius replied. _"Would you like to specialize your squad, sir?"_

"Yes." said Ron in mid thought. "We'll call the first one R1, he's our Combat Engineer made Scout. The second one is R2, he's the Vehicle Crewman. Third one, R3, is another combat engineer. R4 is the medic. R5 and R6 will be our Heavy Weapon Specialists, and R7 will be the second Communications Technician."

_"Shall I go ahead and make you Squad Leader?"_ said Polonius, expecting a yes.

"No." replied Ron. "The squad leader will lead the men throughout the mission, I need to stay behind and route them their instructions."3

_"Should I make R1 the squad leader then?"_ said Polonius.

"Yes." said Ron.

_"Weapons, armor, and location sir."_ said Polonius.

"Standard Imperial Army weapons and armor. Make the environment a large warehouse. Plenty of obstacles and boxes and such."

_"A standard simulation then sir."_ replied Polonius.

"It won't be so standard when I've added our enemies." said Ron. "What's the best you got?"

_"I have a mercenary prototype thats available."_ said Polonius.

"That'll do." replied Ron. "Give the mission instructions to R1. I don't want to know any specifics until I'm in."

_"Will do, Sir. And good luck, Sir."_ said Polonius.

"Thank you."

_ _ _

Ron entered the simulation chamber as soon as he had finished with Polonius in the control room. It was a large, but low room with plenty of stairs and boxes and other basic obstacles. The lights overhead were slowly dimming until it became totally dark in the room. Suddenly blue light streamed out of the four corners of the room spreading across the walls. The blue light traveled across all surfaces, as if it was a giant scanner. When it reached Ron, the light was so strong that he was forced to close his eyes from its brightness.

When he reopened his eyes he found himself in a large grey warehouse, crouched behind blaster beaten crates. He looked up at the ceiling, which appeared to rise a few stories, and below him the floor, which had turned to concrete. Beside him he noticed three men in Ron Squad, which he noticed by their arm insignias as R4, R5 and R7. The other six were scattered along the room in a ragged line, with R1 at the closest point to the enemy.

Suddenly R4 turned towards Ron and said, "R8? R8, you hear me?"

Ron nodded his head. Apparently he was R8.

"What happened?" Ron said.

"You were wounded in your thigh." R4 said. "By the time I got to you, you had lost so much blood I thought we lost you."

Wounded? Ron felt his thigh and tried to stand up. Instantly he fell back down in pain. This simulation was _very_ real.

R8 put his hand up to his helmet and said. "Calling R1, you read me Sir? Yeah, R8's back. Sir? Alright then I'll tell him." He turned back to Ron.

"R1's coming down to see you R8. We're lucky you're coming around, R1 doesn't think we can get through these Mercenaries with force, there's too many of them."

R1 came back suddenly and slid undercover. He nodded to R4 before taking off his helmet. Ron was shocked to see R1 looked just like him, only with sweat pouring down his head and neck, wetting his hair and undershirt.

"Good to have you back R8." Without his helmet on, R1 sounded exactly like Ron. "We need you to upload the area schematics and plot out a course that will take us past these damn Mercenaries. R7 tried but well, he wasn't able to..."

Ron caught the glitch in the realism here. He knew that R7 very well could have managed to do the task (he was after all based on Ron) but Polonius probably programmed R7 to be unable to do it. It was funny to see how the fake world mingled with real things and people.

"Right." Ron said. "R7, I'll need your laptop and password."

R7 gave them both instantly, and Ron (pleased to find that the laptop was based on the newer laptop model) logged on. He opened up the network panel and had no trouble in connecting to the warehouse computer (which he learned was located behind the mercenaries) and accessing the area schematics.

A map popped up onto his screen showing him the location of all objects and people. Small blue dots showed where the squad was, and multiple red dots showed the location of the mercenaries.

"Here." said Ron to R1. R1 looked at the screen and nodded.

"That looks about right. There's more of them then us, and they're covering both the exits from the looks of it..."

Ron had noticed that too. Two exits were located at the far corners of the room directly behind the largest blobs of red. Ron did a count of the total amount of mercenaries and announced their number to R1.

"Twenty?" said R1. "A good number." he said with a grin. Ron recognized his own humor in R1, but said nothing.

Suddenly something caught Ron's eye that he hadn't noticed at first. He noticed a large amount of heat coming from one of the Mercenary occupied corners of the room and did a diagnostic on it. From the endothermic readings on his computer he realized that a highly pressurized heater pipe ran up the corner, right up out of the floor and way up to the roof. If that pipe was punctured, an explosion could follow which would free up one of the exits.

He outlined his plan to R1, who nodded and said. "Sounds like a good plan." he turned to the rest of the Ron Squad and said, "We'll split up; R1, R2, R3, and R7 will come with me to open up the Northeast exit. R4, R5, and R6 will go with R8 to wait under cover in front of the Northwest exit."

Ron saluted R1 and said, "Good luck, Sir."

"Remember to ambush once the diversion has worked." Reminded R1. "And good luck to you too."

_ _ _

The steady watch of the Mercenaries was interrupted by R3's fanatic shout, _"EAT THIS!"_ Before they could locate the source of the voice they all watched as an imperial grade grenade was launched above their heads near the pipe. One of the mercenaries acted quickly, picked up the grenade, and threw it back. It exploded before it reached any of the troopers.

"You'll need a better plan to kill us." sneered the Mercenary.

As if by response, four grenades were sent back over one of the barricades and into the corner. The combined explosion of those four grenades, plus the exploded gas that leaked out of the pipe created an explosion that wiped out the entire corner of Mercenaries.

R1 nodded to his troops as they slowly approached the corner that had been cleared. They hadn't gone but a few steps before they were beset by gun fire. The other corner of mercenaries had seen the explosion and immediately shifted corners to attempt to take out the invasion party.

When the Northwest corner was evacuated, Ron and his group moved up and pinched off the mercenaries from their escape. The mercenaries were outflanked. They split up and hid themselves throughout the room, Ron Squad hard on their heels. When at last they found out the last one, he threw a last grenade before falling from R4's E-11 fire.

Ron saw the grenade almost too late. The grenade set off almost as Ron dove for cover, and sent sharp fragments of shrapnel into Ron's left leg and thigh. Ron's entire left side of his body was bleeding heavily by the time R4 reached him.

"R8! R8 you sure get yourself in the worst of scrapes. Just stay awake! We're done now; you, me, and the rest of the Squad. You did it, you got us out of here. C'mon now, don't sleep... don't sleeep..."

R4's voice grew more distant as Ron faded out. When he awoke he found himself in the simulation room, lying flat on the ground. He got up suddenly, surprised to feel no pain in his thigh, or anywhere for that matter. He raised his left pant leg expecting to see blood, but instead found a healthy limb. Those simulations seemed _very _real...

Once Ron left the simulation he discovered the class outside, watching the last part of the simulation. Ron watched himself help the squad clear out the mercenaries, he saw the grenade blow up his right side, and he saw R4 rush over with bandages and health equipment. Ron watched as R4 picked him up out the exit, finally fading into blackness. Thus the simulation ended.

"You did good Ron." said Wethers suddenly. Ron looked back quizzically.

"But I nearly died." he said. "Yes, we cleared out the mercenaries- but that grenade most likely killed me."

Wethers shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You would have died after completing the mission in service of the Squad. For our intents and purposes, you couldn't have done much better in that particular instance."

Ron closed his eyes in relief. He looked around at the other students who were with Polonius making their clone squads.

"Thank goodness that's over." said Ron to himself. I was getting tired of seeing double. I'll ask Polonius to give them all mohawk hair next time...


	9. My Choice or A Change in the Wind

AU: Please check the website on our profile page out. Any recruit who contacts Aeos on the Vast Empire from will receive a present from me(Aeos) from the Imperial Store into their First Galactic Bank Accounts. This is if they can survive Naval or Army Academies.

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 4: Battle Analysis

Story 2: Target Analysis

My Choice -or- A Change in the Wind

The newly waxed floor of the Gregor Building halls reflected Ron's stance perfectly; though it was faded, tile green, and upside down. To match, his body slenderized on the slick tile, making his torso and head ridiculously flatter than in reality. The only part of his body that was proportional to the reflection was his feet, which were planted firmly on the ground.

In front of Ron was the greatest of all beer vending machines, which Ron had labeled suitably as "The King". In previous months, Ron had been consumed by a constant drive to cheat the machine; to steal as many beers as he could. But that seemed like a long time ago. He looked down at his clenched hand by his side and extended it forward, slowly releasing his fingers outward to expose the zip chip within it. This was Ron's masterpiece, the ultimate weapon against the beer vending machines. With this tiny instrument of technology he was able to suck the machine clean of all its beverage- making the difficulty of past attempts the work of a once incompetent youth.

But now as he stood with arm extended and palm open- Ron discovered that the age old trade of stealing beer had lost interest. He had defeated himself, the beer machine had been conquered and he had perfected his art; but for some reason his victory lacked satisfaction. The beer he stole tasted the same as the beer he bought. He pocketed the chip, reached back in for some credits, and paid the fee.

"Giving up?" came a familiar voice.

"It's finished." said Ron simply. "I'm just not interested in beating the machine, or you, anymore."

"Do you have it, do you have the chip?" asked the Janitor.

"Sure." said Ron absentmindedly. He pulled out the chip from his pocket and gave it to the Janitor without another look at it.

"Sure is a pretty thing." said the Janitor admiringly. "I don't recognize the technology though. What did you use?"

"I basically created it." said Ron while he opened the can with a hiss. "It's called a Hijack Chip. The computer inside the chip acts like a virus which completely takes over the computer- regardless of software and protection. Once that's done- it tells the machine to release cans in increments of five until I pull it out. That's it."

"Impressive." said the Janitor. And he meant it. He pocketed the chip and sat upon the hallway bench, motioning for Ron to join him. Ron nodded, and half grinned before he sat down.

"I remember setting up this bench twenty years ago." the Janitor mused. "That was back when I was first hired to do work here, right after I failed the Com Tech final exam."

"Wait." Ron said. "I thought you said you were hired to fix bugs and keep hackers from tearing apart the campus."

"Not exactly." the Janitor said. "I was hired because I had nothing else to go for. I had been accepted to a Squad, and to a full promotion; but I failed the test. The Squad chose someone else who passed, and they gave them the promotion as well." the Janitor's voice lowered. "It's a pity too, I knew more about computers than anyone else in that class."

Ron's eyes dropped so that he gazed at the floor. He raised his voice without raising his eyes. "So how did you fail?"

"I was not interested in the class." said the Janitor simply. I had passed the classes easily enough- they were all basically book exercises with occasional tests. I thought I could pass the exams the same way. I was wrong. When I took the exams, they gave me problems I couldn't handle. So I failed."

"Then… why are you telling me this?" asked Ron. He felt he knew the answer, but for some reason he just had to ask.

"Because you have potential; because if you pass this course, then somehow I'll feel like I did not fail that class for nothing." said the Janitor. He got up and stretched his arms before dipping his mop in the bucket. Ron got up as well and started to walk down the hall. He turned suddenly and said,

"Hey Janitor… thanks for everything."

"Get to class." came the Janitor's unemotional response. The sound of splattering water resounded through the hall as Ron took the Janitor's advice.

_ _ _

Ron's "class" was more like private instruction. With only seven students left in the class (all of them had passed from the last class), Prof. Wethers decided the best course of action was to schedule them separately. Wethers (as stated in the previous story) felt that his two classes of Battle and Target Analysis were the most important in a Communications Technicians training. Being as such, they were his only classes, and he could afford to give special attention to a small class.

Ron entered the room slowly, and shut the door behind him slowly. Regardless of his precaution, the door still clicked, and in the massive classroom the closing click echoed.

"Ah. Ron, yes, please make yourself comfortable in the first row there… next to the, ah, laptop there." came Wethers' voice. Ron couldn't see the man, but he followed the directions. Soon enough he saw his professor appear from behind the green chalkboard- a large black book in his hands. Ron stared at his actions, and was surprised to see that an instructor actually still used the dusty chalkboard.

"Ron?" said Wethers. He had caught Ron's gaze and was ready to move on. Ron snapped out of his momentary relapse and listened as Wethers explained his test.

"Now." he started. "As I had explained over the course of the last few days, there are five methods to determine your target for execution…"

"Sore-thumb, Affirmative Action, Tip, Hour-glass, and Trial and Error." said Ron immediately.

"And what do they mean?" asked an already pleased Wethers.

"The Sore-thumb method is the easiest to find. Basically it's the theory that suspicious actions are the best way to determine the correct target. Suspicious actions could be anything from clothing worn by target, to equipment carried by target, to even the language spoken by the target." answered Ron.

"And the dangers of using this method?"

"Using the Sore-thumb method can be dangerous if the suspicious target is not the actual target. In extreme cases: if the suspicious target is eliminated and it is found out that said eliminated person was innocent, then the mission is jeopardized; and the only method left is Trial and Error."

"Next." said Wethers.

"Affirmative Action is when a person performs a suspicious and often violent action in front of the trooper. This is not likely to happen, but if the trooper should be lucky enough to witness the action committed then his work is pretty much cut out for him. The benefit of using Affirmative Action is the high chance that the subject is the correct target. Drawbacks include putting yourself in danger to view the action and accusing an innocent person as the target."

"Good." exclaimed Wethers.

"The Tip method is when a trooper receives reliable information regarding details that can lead to the extermination of the target. This is the most frequent of all the methods used. Tips don't have to come from other people, they can be clues that the trooper finds that leads him to the enemy target. Drawbacks are false leads and poor information, which can lead to unnecessary death.

"The Hour-glass method," continued Ron. "is the theory that if a trooper waits long enough, the proof and target will present itself over time. This is usually used when a trooper has used, or tried to use all the aforementioned methods to find said person. The drawbacks to using this method are losing the trail, missing the target, and wasting time."

"And last…" started Wethers.

"is the Trial and Error method." continued Ron. "This method is the worst method; but in some cases it is the only one left to use. The Trial and Error method is the theory that after eliminating all suspicious targets, the objective target will be eliminated eventually. While this is the most thorough of all the methods, it is also the dirtiest and least professional. Consequences fall heaviest with this one. The drawback to Trial and Error is killing innocent people and in some cases missing the target completely while wasting shot and manpower on wrong targets."

"Excellent." said Wethers. "You have definitely passed the oral exam with flying colors. I doubt that you will have trouble remembering those methods in the future. Now we will move on to the actual execution of the exam."

Wethers drew three figures on the chalkboard and labeled them,

"The first is a human male, five foot eleven inches tall, one hundred and seventy pounds. The only other information you have on him is the fact that he is a citizen of Corellia and he carries a heavy pistol on his right side.

The second is a female Twi'lek, six foot tall, one hundred forty-nine pounds. You can see from looking at her that she wears a ceremonial necklace around her neck, carries twin blaster pistols at both sides of her hips- and has a blaster rifle strapped across her back. She is a hired guard for one of the larger Vertis Corporation company buildings.

The last suspect is a heavily armored mercenary. You don't know the sex of this suspect, but you can see that it is six feet four inches tall, and about two hundred pounds. The mercenary wears thick armor with numerous weapon devices built into it. The mercenary favors a heavy repeating blaster rifle as his weapon of choice."

Ron nodded as the information was presented to him.

"I will now explain to you the location and then will explain your "mission" to you. After that, you will proceed to explain to me how you will narrow down your suspect and eventually you will chose one of them to exterminate. Is everything clear?" asked Wethers,

Ron nodded again.

"Right then. Upon the Imperial transport _Legacy_ twenty passengers are being shipped to Tatooine for personal and business matters. While traveling in hyperspace, the captain is murdered in his room. The three suspects above were caught nearby when the pilot of the ship arrived on the scene. You, being the highest ranking officer left on board are called to investigate. The clues are as follows:

_First:_ all three of the suspects have weapons with them. The human has a blaster pistol, the twi'lek has two blaster pistols, and the mercenary has a heavy repeating blaster rifle.

_Second:_ there are no visible blaster wounds visible on the dead captain's body. But there is some signs of redness around his neck as well as several bruises on his skull. Blood is also visible around the mouth, nose, and ears of the captain.

_Third:_ the blood of the captain has been found on two of the suspects, the human and the mercenary.

_Fourth:_ the video camera in the room was shot and destroyed before the murder could be recorded. When the damage was inspected, it was determined that it the person who destroyed the camera used a blaster pistol.

_Fifth:_ the room of the murder scene has large traces of carbon monoxide gas.

_Sixth:_ the mercenary has an empty canister of carbon monoxide gas equipped on his wrist.

_Seventh:_ only the twi'lek and the human suffered from carbon monoxide poisoning, the twi'lek suffering the most.

_Eighth:_ all three suspects blame a different suspect for the murder."

Wethers looked at Ron. "Are you with me so far?"

Ron nodded. It was a lot of information, but all of it was vital to determining who the target is.

"Alright." continued Wethers. "Now to personal accounts. The human claims that the twi'lek committed the crime. According to him, he heard a gunshot in the captain's room which made him enter the room incase someone was hurt. When he entered, he saw the twi'lek in the room strangling the captain, so he rushed at her to stop her. Then the human said that the twi'lek turned out the light, and then tried to escape. The human claimed he grabbed the twi'lek by her neck and held down tight until he felt her get weaker. After that, he called for help and the mercenary came in; resulting ultimately with the lights turned on, the captain on the floor dead- and the pilot walking in. The man gives no account for the carbon monoxide."

Ron nodded for him to go on.

"The twi'lek claims that the mercenary killed the captain. She said that _she_ was the one who walked in to find the human try to kill the captain, and so she tried to stop him. She said that she raised her blaster to kill him, but she missed and hit the camera instead. She also said that he turned out turned out the lights. Suddenly she felt cold metallic fingers around her neck and the sound of a quiet gas leaking. The twi'lek claims she was almost choked to death and then thrown aside by the mercenary. She finishes the story by saying that the mercenary used the carbon monoxide to poison all the people in the room, except himself because he was protected by a mask, and then he made sure that captain was dead by strangling him."

Ron wrote down the last part of the narrative before nodding for Wethers to finish,

"The mercenary claims that the human killed the captain. He says that he came in late, when the lights were already out. He admits that his canister was emptied, but he says that the human emptied it on purpose to poison everyone in the room. The mercenary finishes his story by saying that the human strangled the captain after releasing the carbon monoxide into the air."

Wethers smiled after finishing. "Now tell me." he said. "Which one of the suspects killed him? And who should deserve death in return?"

_ _ _

Ron looked at his information carefully. From everything he heard, the mercenary's story sounded the least likely. The fact that a mere citizen killed an Imperial Captain in his sleep before a guard and a mercenary did was very unlikely, and the part of the mercenary's story about the human releasing the carbon monoxide into the room was very unlikely as well. Doubtless the human did not even know about the carbon monoxide at all. So from the start, it looked like the Mercenary was the perpetrator just because of his suspicious story; Sore-thumb method.

But then there was the twi'lek. She was seen by the citizen as shooting the camera, a fact that she did not even deny. The story about her missing the human was a very big lie too, that was a terrible shot for a hired body guard. That alone gave her away as committing a suspicious action; Affirmative Action method.

Next Ron had to figure out exactly how the captain died, and perhaps narrow it down to who could have possibly killed him. He thought back to the clues that Wethers gave him, or his Tips. Wethers said that the man died with no blaster shots, but instead had pressure around his neck and bruises on his head. That sounds like he was strangled. Then again, there was blood around his mouth, nose, and ears. That means that some pressure within him must have forced him to bleed externally. Ron was no medic, but he had heard some terrible effects of carbon monoxide poisoning. Ron thought that once again, the clues led to the mercenary; Tip method.

The Mercenary did it...

As Ron was about to answer, he suddenly remembered a very important fact. The twi'lek clearly claimed that she was strangled by cold metallic hands. That contradicted against the man's claim that he's the one who tried to choke her. If that was true, then the part of the man's story where he claims he strangled the twi'lek was not true… which meant that he actually was holding onto the captain's neck.

The twi'lek must have done it...

Ron was about to answer again; he opened his mouth and breathed, but then he remembered one last point. The twi'lek was the one who shot the camera. If it was clear that the twi'lek did not hit the camera on accident, then why would she want to destroy the only trustable evidence of the murder in the room? She was covering up for herself. That could only mean one thing: the twi'lek meant to kill the captain, but she was stopped by the man who tried to kill her, but accidentally killed the captain instead. The mercenary, while he seemed to be the most obvious choice, was hardly involved at all. The only problem left was how the carbon monoxide was released…

After thinking about it for a while, the answer came to him. The man who strangled the captain must have hit the release for the carbon monoxide on the mercenary, either by accident or on purpose- it did not matter. That would explain how the captain's blood got on the mercenary. All this using the Hour-glass method.

Finally Ron gave his answer. He explained everything to Wethers first and finished saying,

"The human killed the captain, but the Twi'lek was the one who set up the murder. The human should be punished severely, and the Twi'lek is our target, letting her go would be dangerous to other crew members."

"Well…" started Wethers. "You've passed Target Analysis… you solved that problem perfectly."

Ron blinked in surprise. He was not expecting such a short answer.

"That's it?" he said.

"Unless you want me to give you another one." grinned Wethers.

"No." said Ron firmly. He took out a death-stick and grinned,

"All that carbon monoxide got me thinking about my smokes…"


	10. Nearing the End

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 5: Qualified Communications Technician

Story 1: Language: Source Code

Nearing the End

The second term was coming close to its grueling end. The examinations were drawing close, and all able troopers were finishing any last requisites to close their spots on the exam list. Ron walked stolidly through the hallway, the very picture of no emotion in a very crowded and emotional hallway. Those troopers who crowded the hallway were packed around a large bulletin board to find out who was to take their examinations. Most troopers who had passed their courses went on to the examination without any difficulty. Qualifying wasn't the hard part. Passing the exam, and actually becoming qualified in a particular specialty was another.

Ron passed through the mess of people. He knew what he had to do to get on the list. He had two more classes that he had to finish. The first of these was to be finished today, his "Language: Source Code" test. Ron honestly couldn't figure out why he was being tested in such a basic subject so late in his training. Understanding the computer language was part of everything; it was like addition is to math, it can't be done without it. The only students who could have made it thus far in their classes would have been very adept at understanding the computer language; commands, scripts, and codes being as they are- simple and very easy to manipulate. Ron even considered it a small insult to his scholastic achievement that such an easy class was part of his preparation for the exams…

But then again, perhaps it was to his benefit that these easier classes were the last that he had to complete. The empire needed more Communication Technicians badly, most troopers were too trigger happy to devote their training to mechanical and analytical paths, and so became combat engineers or heavy weapon specialists. Not that there was anything wrong with taking the more physical path of a trooper; it was all for the good of the empire. It was essential then that Ron should exceed himself to the fullest, both for his own personal credit, and for his future career.

The classroom was before him before him once he stopped to recall his destination. It was a smaller room than the auditoriums he was used to; a simple square room that fit about thirty students. The desks were wooden and small (probably built for a younger generation) and they all faced the only decorated wall in the room. Upon the wall was a large white drawing board (much akin to our modern day digital boards) which had various stylus' which could be used to write upon them. Sitting off to the right of the board was the instructor, a new professor, although his age did not reflect his relative youth as a teacher. The man himself was called by students as Major Rhodes.

Rhodes had pepper hair with a predominantly grey moustache and beard. He had dark blue eyes and a piercing protruding nose that cut through the air every time he turned his head. Most interesting of all his features were his great bushy eyebrows that furrowed together into a great unibrow when he was upset. This was a source of laughter for the troopers behind his back, but also a great mask of fear to those who had created the means of it.

Ron sat near the front of the room. His backside hurt from the long night he had spent studying beforehand; every possible code and command he was vaguely familiar with, and anything he didn't know he could certainly look up on his laptop, upon which the test would be taken. Ron looked about the room. Most of the students he had never seen before, he saw here and there bits from his old class- about five of the seven were present including Ron. Major Rhodes looked about the room and at his watch quickly before standing up to address the class.

"The test will be on three subjects…" started Rhodes.

"Code." Ron mumbled to himself.

"The computer languages code…"

"Command." Ron mumbled again.

"command…" said Rhodes almost prophetically.

"Script." finished Ron.

"And script." said Rhodes. Even as he did not hear Ron he still had placed spaces between each point for emphasis. Rhodes moved on to explain the testing procedure.

"You will all be required to stand, and I shall test you as a group in a kind of competition."

"I hate these." grumbled Ron.

Rhodes continued. "You will all stand in your place, answering questions that I give you in order of your position in the classroom. If you answer correctly you may sit down, if you answer incorrectly you must remain standing. There will be three rounds of testing, only troopers who answer two-thirds of their questions correctly will be passed for this course."

"In other words, only one chance to screw up." Ron thought.

"I will begin with the front. You there, Corporal Burns, give me two kinds of script that the Imperial Army uses for message translation…"

Question was followed by answer. Victory and defeat stood and sat side by side as troopers either pulled through or withered under the steady questions. Being near to the front (to his regret) Ron was the fifth to go.

"What is more efficient." started Rhodes. "Using source code or commands to open a hidden extension file."

"Commands." said Ron immediately. Using source codes would tell him where the file was, but it was by using commands that he could open the file itself.

"You may sit." Rhodes replied.

The first round finished after the sixteenth student had finished his question. The round stopped and the scores were tallied. Since no one had answered two incorrectly, everyone was still passing- but quite a few of them were on their honor.

Ron's next question came after watching the four in front of him answer wrong. So according to the rules, Ron had to answer the question that they all missed.

"Supposing you had to connect to an enemy terminal by cable cord and your cord was cut- the cut off piece gone missing. How would you repair or replace the cord considering that you have no extra cables available to use?"

Ron had thought about this answer while the others missed it. He had learned it during an earlier class, when they had used the wires in one of their blaster rifles as an antenna.

"I'd construct a new wire, sir, using wires from my gun and soldering them to the main cable by melting the ends off through a gun blast."

Rhodes did not like this answer.

"Too difficult." he said. "You'd get shot down during your elaborate and painstaking plan. Remain standing, Ron."

So Ron had missed one as well. There were not many students who were sitting down this round, as most of the questions had been of a similar nature. However some students still managed to pass through the round without a mistake. After the sixteenth fellow had gone (and answered incorrectly for the second time) the scores were tallied. Six of the sixteen had answered one right and one wrong. Two had answered both right, and eight people had answered both wrong. A few moments of shuffling saw the eight failures out of the classroom before the third and last round began.

"Eight of you left." sneered Rhodes. He turned to Ron who was now the first man to be asked.

"You're laptop has lost all power. You check the battery, spare battery, power cord, power supply, fan, and internal wiring only to discover that everything is in working condition. Name one reason why your laptop has no power."

It was a strange question to ask. Basically if everything was working in the computer the only thing that could have forced the power to go off was an external force. Usually a power surge. It seemed almost too easy…

"Power surge?" Ron guessed.

"Yes." Rhodes said curtly. "You may sit."

The other seven received relatively easy answers as well. All seven of them passed the third and last part of the test.

"I have sent in your test results, and you may all pass on to the final level of your preparation for the exams, which I am sure most if not all of you will be anxious to finish." several students nodded at this.

"Of course most of you must be wondering why the last round was so easy." said Rhodes suddenly. "It's primarily because I wanted to know who was really ready for the test. It's more of a precaution than anything to weed out those students who are unprepared for the examinations than anything. Once the first two rounds were over, it was quite obvious as to who was ready. You are all to be congratulated on your steadfast success."

Rhodes turned his back to the class and began writing a new lesson on the board for the next class to come in.

"You are dismissed."


	11. My Final Test

Ron-Goron  
Communications Technician  
Level 5: Qualified Communications Technician

Story 2: Diagrams, Blueprints, Wiring Maps Recognition

My Final Test

Up in one of the greater knotted trees located outside on the specialization campus, in the leafy green leaves absorbed in diagrams, blueprints, and wiring maps: sat Ron. He was studying for his last test, or rather, smoking and relaxing before his test. He had taken the Janitor's words seriously, studied for an hour or two, and then spent the next hour before his test relaxing.

A sudden tug on his leg pulled Ron out of his dreamworld and made him grab a nearby branch for security, while also looking down. That last movement knocked his book out of his lap and onto the ground where it was picked up by an old friend.

"Your study habits haven't changed much since I last saw you." grinned Malcus.

"Malcus?" said Ron. "Malcus is that you?" He hadn't seen Marcus for over a year now, mostly due to their change in dorms, but also due to the fact that for the last six months Malcus had been away on duty.

Ron slid down the tree right in front of Malcus. Ron shook his hand and asked, "So how did you like the war?"

"Not like I thought it would be." sighed Malcus.

"Too bloody?" grinned Ron.

"Too unorganized. One minute you're shooting the face off some guy, and the next minute your best friend's face is turned inside out. Infantry never gets to control anything- its either kill or be killed."

Malcus sighed. "But that's what I get for being a Heavy Weapon's Specialist."

Ron got the idea that Malcus wasn't back just to visit.

"So, you're back to finish your training?" Ron said.

"Swiching specialities. Combat Engineer." Marcus grinned, but it was a half-hearted grin. He hadn't even finished his heavy weapons training before he was picked up to serve active duty. Ron had been in active duty before, but Malcus must have really gone through a lot to make him switch specialities.

"Enough about me." Malcus nudged. "What about you? What's this you're studying?" He flipped open the text to the bookmarked page.

"Diagrams and blueprints and maps." replied Ron. "It's my last test before the exams..."

"Almost done eh?" grinned Malcus. His smile meant well, but it faded as he remembered his own future career. Malcus shook off that thought and turned back to the former subject.

"So tell me about these maps..."

An hour later Ron sat midsection in a smaller classroom. Around him were the familiar faces of the remaining few who stuck around to finish their classes. Eight of them in all; no, seven now that he counted them. One of them wasn't here. Ron took one more glance about the room before the instructor walked in. Ron looked up casually, and then he double took as he noticed his professor more keenly.

This was the first time Ron had ever had a female instructor, for the instructor was beyond any doubt a woman. She was not garbed in the army uniform, but instead she was dressed in a professional garment that most non-millitary professors wore. Even so, she held her shoulders back and her chin up, and there was a slight rasp in her voice which suggested that she was used to raising her voice. Even with this vocal impairment, she was very attractive with long brown hair and very large and dark brown eyes; all that along with a naturally attractive build... Ron wasn't about to dread this test just yet.

She almost threw her briefcase on the table before smiling towards the class.

"I am Miss Sensaii, I will be your proctor for the test."

No wonder. She was only the proctor of the test. Even though they had many different instructors who helped to prepare them for the course test, most of them were older and unable to fight. A younger person like this was most likely an intern of some kind, getting used to small duties of administration before being moved up. Ron looked around at the other students. Since most of them were male, it was easy to see that they agreed with Ron's judgements about her looks- but what amused Ron was they were internally celebrating that single word, _Miss_.

"Your test will be done in two parts." Sensaii began.

Back to reality. Ron focused on the test ahead as Sensaii pulled out two large folders, which were probably filled with the maps diagrams needed to test them on.

"The first part contains the basic map testing procedure, where I discern whether or not you have the prerequired abilities to read and use the diagrams. This will be done through a series of questions which I will ask to each students."

The students nodded. Ron started to wonder whether or not the test would be as easy as the last one...

"And the second part will comprise of a one on one blueprints and diagrams exercise in which I will give you a map to read and I will ask you what is wrong with each map."

That's more like it. Nothing like a challenge to get the real promising students to step up.

Sensaii pulled up a chair and indicated for the students to sit down. Reading aloud to them, she marked down their preformance based on preparation, confidence, and accuracy. These results were emailed directly to each student after they answered each question so that they could keep track of their progress. This way, it was possible for some students to build upon their failures on the next question asked them.

Ron was next. Sensaii flipped her textbook manual and flipped the page, finally settling on a suitable question which she read aloud: _"If reading a political blueprint of a gas chamber, in which hydratic, electrical, and gaseous plumbing are labled, should you use the hydratic or electrical labels as a reference to determining the approximate age of the gas ducts?"_

Determining the age of gas ducts were not an easy business. Ron remembered that the text described gas chambers as very complicated and twisted areas in which water, electricity, and gas all flowed together. The electicity was used to heat the water which was used to keep the gas from cooling and collecting as droplets on the sides of the ducts.

But to find the age of the ducts. Electrical? Electrical could be used and recycled, any information about their age would be irrelevant. But the water pipes were attached to the gas ducts, so they would have to be installed at the same time; as well as replaced at the same time.

"Hydratic, er... the water pipes." Ron replied. He was correct.

Upon recieving his progress sheet, he wasn't surprised. He scored in the 95 percentile for preparation, 90 for confidence, and 100 for accuracy. With an "either or" question, it was either pass with full points, or no points.

Once the first part of the test was done, Sensaii was prepared to challenge her students. With the preliminary testing out of the way, she began the second phase of the test.

Most of the students were passing this part easily. They were intelligent students, and while sometimes they missed one or two fo the maps, those few mistakes were flooded by scores of correct answers.

Ron was about to go, until they lost power in their room. The only light came from the small windows near the back of the room, the front was completely dark. Sensaii left her position in the front of the room and walked towards the back terminal to attempt to restore the lights. Only problem was that she was having trouble.

Ron got out of his chair to get a drink of water out of the fountain in the back. Of course, he couldn't help but ask what was wrong.

"I'm not sure." Sensaii replied. "All I know is it's not a fuse, it's not a bad switch, and we're the only class without power."

That was clear- the main computer (which was not connected to the classroom) was still running.

Ron was deep in thought. He remembered seeing the lights flicker dimly during the test, but took it as being nothing. It could be bad bulbs- but all of them burning out at once? Not likely.

Then he looked at his classmates. Most of them were just sitting and doing nothing, having no power on their laptops... most of them. Ron noticed that one of them had power- one particular student whom Ron had butt heads with earlier in his classes, Symon.

Ron turned back to Sensaii and said, "Would you mind if I had a go at it? I have an idea as to what the problem is."

Sensaii moved aside, and Ron opened up a diagnostics page showing the power distributions throughout the campus. In the top of the screen he saw the black box that resembled the room in which they were in (the powerless room) and so he uploaded those schematics. Once they were loaded, he searched for the power distribution.

The results were staggering. The source of the power had been redistributed to a single tiny source. About the size of a laptop computer. Ron opened up the visual and identified the mainline wires that had been rerouted to serve a single power source.

"There's your problem." Ron whispered.

"Where?" Sensaii replied.

Ron pointed to the blue square on the map of the room, which was connected to a weaving blue tail that led around the room and finally out the wall.

"That blue box is using up more energy than everything else in the room combined." Ron said. "And that blue tail connected to it is the path that the electricity makes to supply the power. You can see that all the other wires have been ignored so that the energy can easily travel to the source."

Sensaii was clearly impressed. How apt that he should solve the problem by using the very lessons he was just tested on.

"And I'd say that that single power unit would be about the size of a student's laptop." Sensaii said. She raised her head and narrowed her eyes as she saw Symon typing away on his laptop.

Needless to say, Symon failed the test that day (even though he technically passed) and Ron passed (even though he technically never finished). Sensaii had been so impressed by his work that she passed Ron on the spot, without even giving him the second part. She said that Ron solved a harder question anyways. Ron disagreed. Figuring out that Symon was siphoning the power to the room for his own personal uses didn't seem like accomplishing much.

So it was with a light heart that Ron left the classroom. He was finished with classes, and now all that was before him was exams. The very last thing that kept him from being fully certified as a Communications Technician.


End file.
